Achilles and Patroclus Yaoi
by angel25steele
Summary: me and my classmate Christopher Barr wrote this story for our final project for our English class about Troy back in spring 2014.


**Scene 1**

I'm going to kill that clock. There's enough noise in this room, and somehow that ticking is what's getting to me. Maybe it's a blessing; if I focus on it, I can ignore the other sounds outside the door. The white noise of a hospital, suffering moans and all.

It's not how a clock should sound. _Tick, tick, tick, tick_. Where's the tock? Come on, tock. Stop mocking me.

Seriously, there's a pencil on the tray. If I threw it right, maybe I could impale the… motor, or something. Battery? That's possible, right?

The remote's there too, that little voice in my head tells me. That stupid little logical voice. Shut up, logic. Television would be a distraction. My memory's hazy enough already; I can't let myself forget any of the moments replaying in my head. Don't want to.

My leg itches. It's doing more than itch, really, but acknowledging the pain would let it win, right? Or however that goes. Nothing I can do, though, the damn thing's buried in seven layers of bandages. They're sending a specialist down, I guess, to work with me on it. _So_ looking forward to that. It'll take time, they say, but I should walk again some day. Maybe with a cane, sure. I'm lucky, they say, that the blast only mangled a leg. Screw them. Odie made a joke about my "Achilles' heel" when he visited. Screw him too. Smart-ass. I'd have knocked his teeth down his throat, but he and Dom are the ones who dragged me out of there, so I guess I owe him.

Maybe I'm being unfair. No, screw _that_, I know I am. I'm just angry. I could be all cliche and talk about war being hell, but God, I don't want to talk about it all. It's ridiculous. Now that I'm out, all I want is to go back in and finish the fight. Take as many targets with me as I can. That's all they are, targets. Bad guys. Video game terrorists, balaclava-wearing meatbags to mow down. They did this to me. I owe them all something back.

Not just for me. Took him long enough, but when Odie showed up, he let me know about some of the others. AJ's gone; the big guy couldn't handle being back, I guess. Thanks for your contribution, time to go back to normal, good luck out there. His cousin Troy's still around, but he blames himself, I guess. Just left one night, hasn't been seen since. So… not still around. Eh, I hope he's okay. Odie's really the best off of us, lucky him. His wife waited for him, which is more than I can say for some. At least he _has_ a wife. Seems like forever since I even had a _girl_.

I unclench my fists - when had I started? Seems like the default setting for them now. I grab the remote, annoyed, not to turn on the TV - I couldn't really imagine myself watching soap operas, anyway - but to give my hand something to squeeze. I miss the grip of my rifle, having it in my hand, ready. Funny how attached I got to the thing, a security blanket in hell. Aw shit, I made the comparison. Again. I've gone over all this a hundred times since I woke up here. I'll get some sleep, then go over it again, I'm sure. The only thing that changes are the nightmares, ones I can barely remember, thankfully. I try not to think about it.

My hand is clutching the remote in a death grip now, but that'll sort itself out. I let my eyes drift closed. Another round of nightmares, here we go.

_Tick. Tick. Tick…._

**Scene 2**

Patroclus is riding back from the battle in my chariot. When he reaches the Greek camp, I come out to greet him. I smile, but my face turns into a frown as I see his wounded shoulder - bleeding from a deep gash. Caused by a sword, I judge.

"Patroclus, who did that to you?" I point to his injury.

"Hector."

Anger builds in me, and I ask him to tell me everything that happened on the battlefield. We go to our tent, and as I clean and dress his wound he tells me about the fight. The Greeks continued to lose because I had abandoned them, Patroclus could not stand by and continue to let this happen. So he had come to me earlier and asked to wear my armor and go into battle as me.

"Achilles, please allow me to go into battle for the Greeks, the Trojans are terrified of you; they will flee at the very sight of you."

"Alright, Patroclus. You may go fight for the Greeks... but, do not go towards the wall. You stay on the chariot and come straight back here, do you understand?"

"Yes, I do." He nodded, taking my advice to heart.

I helped him put on my armor and gave him a kiss goodbye. He rode on my chariot into the battle. He tells me proudly of the many Trojans he killed with his hurled spear. However, as he was about to go back to the camp, the chariot hit something - a rock, a corpse, the will of the gods - and he fell out. Hector saw him and came towards him. He looked around and found a sword on the ground; he picked it up, ready to defend himself. Hector and Patroclus fought; Patroclus struck out many times, but Hector dodged all of his attacks. Patroclus eventually misstepped, and Hector sliced his shoulder; it now hangs limply against his side. Thankfully before Hector could land a killing blow, a chariot came by, and Patroclus was lifted up and driven away. The chariot that rescued him was none other than mine; the charioteer saw that he had fallen off and tried to get to him back to camp as quickly as possible, but with so many warriors fighting it was hard to find a straight path. By the time he was done telling me about the battle and how he came to get his wound, I was done dressing his arm. I embraced him and looked him in the eyes.

"Patroclus, I should have never let you go out there. You could have been killed, but I thank the gods that you are alive. I will never let you leave me again."

"Achilles, you are my love and I am happy that you worry so much about me."

We smile; I lean towards him and kiss him. He kisses back, seeing no reason to refuse - we _are_ lovers, after all. His tunic was already off because of the healing. He removed mine as well, fumbling only slightly with his one good arm. We continue to kiss and wrap our arms around another, being careful of his injury. My hand is like a thousand kisses moving all over his body. He flips me over and kisses my chest and bites me. We both moan as we are lost in each other's pleasure, we continue to make love until the early morning. When the sun peeks into our tent we are under a blanket and wrapped in each other's arms. I wake up to Patroclus' smiling face, and we say to each other at the same time.

"I love you."

We both do not want to leave the comfort of our bed or our embrace, but we both know that Agamemnon will want to speak to me about rejoining the battle once again. So, reluctantly, we get up and get dressed in our matching blue tunics. Before we go out on to the beach we kiss once more, still glowing from the previous night.

"Patroclus, I could not imagine my life without you, you are the one thing that keeps me sane."

"Nor I you Achilles, you are my true love, and the one reason in this world that keeps me going."

**Scene 3**

What the _fuck._

My eyes pop open and I swear to _God_, that was not a normal nightmare. What was that, Spartacus? They had _swords_. That wasn't how it happened. I'd _know_. And, well… no, let's not talk about that last part. What the… just… Christ, I'm not thinking about that. Nope. Where's the remote.

Oh, good. It's on the floor. Guess I dropped it in my sleep. Genius. My eyes drift to the nurse button. Eh… no. I don't feel like suffering under pitying eyes and that grating, fake-cheery voice. No, I'll just distract myself.

_Tick. Tick. Tick._

I'm going to kill that clock.

Okay. Okay. So… that was me and some guy. Don't know him. Would it be _better_ if I knew him? If he was someone in my unit? I could imagine Odie with that stupid smirk on his face, hearing that I dreamt about him. Yeah, no. Stranger. Much better.

I'm not _gay_. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but… well, that's something I'd know, right? It was just a dream. I won't let it bother me.

_Tick._

I wipe my forehead. It's hot in here. My leg is itching again, and I can feel the sweat trapped in there. I try not to notice the other feeling I'm getting from down there. In that area. Hey, there's more pain than before, too. Through the blinds on the window, I can see it's getting light out. Well, I slept a while, at least. The morphine's wearing off. That makes sense, it was probably messing with my head. I fumble around, searching for the button they gave me to self-medicate. I promised to be good and only use it when I needed it. Yeah, this counts.

Yeah, not a normal dream. Felt too… familiar. I mean, besides the guys with spears. Funny though, I swear I recognized some of them. People that… well, I don't know, it was all pretty hazy, I was probably mistaken. The only one I can really see with perfect clarity is, uh.

I mean, it's not like he was _ugly_. Yeah, I can admit that. I mean, if I _were_, uh, like that, well… congratulations, gladiator-me. I guess?

Okay, I guess I never _thought_ about it. It… well, I mean, I'm straight! I've had a girlfriend before. I mean, _a_ girlfriend. Not that that means anything, it's not like I need _proof_ of sexuality or something. Either way. Not like I have to be one or the other either, you know? It's always presented as so black and white, though. A lot of things are.

Huh.

There was the anger, too. Whoever he was, he was hurt, and I was _pissed_. Now _that_ was familiar. The desire to go out and pay people back. Bloodlust. I glance at my leg again. Yeah. Definitely familiar.

Shit, I could just hear my parents if I told them about this. Mom works at the _church_, for God's sake. Heh. Okay, that was kind of funny. Wordplay. But… right. Things back home would be… awkward. I'm not going through that. Not that I'd _have_ to, right? I must _really_ be bored, if I'm thinking about this so much. Weirdly, uh… what's the word… vivid. Yeah, vivid as it was, dreams don't mean a thing, except when they do, but this one doesn't, because that's a can of worms I'm going to leave sealed. I hate worms. Slimy. My dad always baited the hook for me, when I was little. That'd be a sight to see now, tough soldier freaking out over a worm.

I think the drugs are setting in. Not making sense. That's nice. Nothing really makes much sense anymore, about time I joined the party. I've been up for too long anyway. Almost ten minutes by now? More time asleep, less time reliving… things. Better than stewing in anger. I'll just take a nap, have a _real_ nightmare, and things will go back to normal.

As my mind drifts off, I have a vague realization that I'm sort of hoping to see what happens next.

**Scene 4**

As we step out of our tent, we see King Agamemnon walking up the hill. Patroclus and I glance at each other, already knowing what he has come to ask. We are holding hands; the army knows we are lovers, have accepted that, and don't bother us about it. Agamemnon reaches us, and right on cue, he starts his speech.

"Patroclus, I saw you fight on the battlefield... you were amazing! I want you to fight again, and help us win this war. I want you too Achilles; you both would be excellent on the field. With you two we would never lose."

Patroclus was about to reply, but I beat him to it.

"No, I told you once before Agamemnon, I will not fight until you have restored my honor with your apology."

Agamemnon was about to yell and then leave. However, Patroclus intervened and said,

"Agamemnon, why don't you join me and Achilles in our tent and we can discuss this situation together in a calm and peaceful manner."

Agamemnon and I stared at each other, and he finally agreed. We sat in our tent and Patroclus helped the king persuade me to join the battle again. I eventually did give in - but only on the condition that Patroclus would stay in the camp; his injury prevented him from joining the battle already, but even after it healed, he was to be safe. But before that...

"- Achilles please, you will win glory and fame if you join the battle. Isn't that what you always wanted?" the king argued.

"Yes, but that is not all that I want. I want more."

"What _more_ could you want?"

Patroclus knows, and he interjects on my behalf.

"Agamemnon, apologize wholeheartedly to Achilles for hurting his honor. In addition, he wants Hector dead by his hand. If you can promise him these things, he will say yes."

He looks at me and I nod with approval, and just wait on Agamemnon to say the words. Reluctantly Agamemnon humbly apologizes.

"Achilles... I am sorry I dishonored you by taking your war prize Briseis, she will be returned to you immediately. Also I promise you shall have Hector dead at your feet."

I enjoy the apology in silence for a few moments before finally responding. "I accept your apology, and your promise, Agamemnon. I shall be ready to fight in the morning."

With this answer, Agamemnon leaves the tent to tell his men to prepare for tomorrow's fighting with the news that I will fight once again. I look to Patroclus with concern on my face. He asks me what is wrong.

"Achilles, love, what is the matter? I thought you would be happy to fight again."

"I am happy but, Patroclus do you really want me to go and fight? I do not want to be apart from you, even though I want to kill that rat Hector for harming you."

"Achilles, I will miss you while you are away, but I know that you are an amazing fighter and you will come back to me. I have nothing to worry about. Besides, it will be nice to know that Hector will fall by your hand."

With that, we eat and I play my lyre, which he falls asleep to. I stop and come to him and wrap my arms around him. I kiss his forehead.

"You really are amazing Patroclus."

"As are you Achilles."

We fall asleep in each other's arms and awake to a new dawn. He helps me put on my armor, and he walks with me down to where the army awaits. We turn to each other and kiss like our lives depended on it. We did not know it would be for the last time. I put something in his hand; He looks down and sees that it is my ring, the ring that signifies that I am a prince. He puts it on. The army sees this; they cheer around us, and he blushes.

"Achilles, why are you giving me this?"

"It is a symbol of my love for you, and so you never forget me. This shows that you are mine forever Patroclus."

We kiss once more and I get on my chariot and head towards Troy with the army behind me. Patroclus walks along the beach and waits for me.

**Scene 5**

I arrive on the battlefield in my chariot and slay several who try to attack me. I jump off my chariot, hurling my spear, drawing my sword as I land to carve a path to retrieve it, leaving a trail of bodies. I fight like this for hours - ducking and blocking, slicing my way through the enemy. That is when I see him, Hector. I charge towards him as he is pulling his sword out of a fellow Greek. Hector turns to see me coming and sidesteps my attack. We face each other and our battle begins. I swing first and slice his arm - _that was for Patroclus. _He tries to cut me but I continue avoiding his attacks.

"Hector you shall die today, for you have injured my true love."

"Achilles, I shall not be so easy to kill, for we are equally matched."

"We shall see prince, we shall see."

We continue to fight each other. My anger fuels me, I want Hector dead, and I want the Trojans to feel fear at the mention of my name. I attack him more aggressively and quickly. I use my speed and agility. He jumps towards me but I dodge my tumbling away. He lands and turns but I am too quick. I stab him in the stomach and twist, leaving the blade in his body as he tumbles. He falls to the ground and looks up at me with almost dead eyes. With his dying breath, he says this.

"Achilles, it seems that you are the better man, I am sorry that I hurt your love."

With that, he falls to the ground, lifeless. I am stunned - he apologized? I just stare at the body, and as I look at him, my anger slowly drains away. I had wanted to kill him, which I had done. I had planned to hate him forever for hurting my Patroclus, but with his dying breath, he changed my mind. I went in to the battle hating Hector, seeing him as nothing but an enemy - now I see him as someone who felt love, who knew my pain. Hector was someone I could respect. The Trojans were coming to rescue their fallen prince. I left the body on that bloodstained field and walked away, with each step, my anger at Hector continued to diminish. The Trojans reach their prince and avoid me, which is wise, but unnecessary. I am done killing for today. I want to see my beloved Patroclus and wrap him into my arms. Kiss him and say to him that he has been avenged and that he is safe.

I continue to walk towards my chariot which is on the other side of the battlefield, far from where Hector and I fought in front of the Trojan wall. However, as I am walking I feel something pierce my shoulder. I turn to see Paris, Hector younger brother, readying another arrow aimed at me. He must have watched us fight from atop the wall. He saw his brother fall and wished the same fate upon me! I had no shield or weapon near me... I started to run.

**Scene 6**

That… was something.

As little as I know about what's going on in these dreams - and honestly, it's _weird_ how clearly I remember them - they still feel so familiar. That guy - the one who hurt my, uh. Anyway, there was something about him. The hate was familiar. Anger. Whoever I was, I really tore through the army to get to him. Familiar, except… you know, not. Got my revenge. Not so familiar, there. All for the sake of a lover, instead of a leg. Is that better? Probably. Less selfish, right? And hey, the guy seems nice. Patrick, or something. Handsome, I guess, if I were, uh, interested in that sort of thing. Am I? It's kind of a big deal if I were. I mean, it didn't seem like a big deal in the dream, sure, but… dreams are dreams.

That one I killed, at the end. That was… strange. It felt… I won't say it didn't feel satisfying. But he looked so… _pathetic_. He was just some guy. It's hard to remember that kind of thing, sometimes. What was it I was thinking the other day, about just… wanting them to be faceless bad guys to shoot? Almost reminds me that all those guys I was aiming at, they were like me. Could have been like me, at least. Maybe. Can't make assumptions. But the guy who laid that mine, I mean… I wonder if he'd be sorry. Maybe he was only following orders. Yeah, doesn't seem likely; you don't put those things down and _not_ want to cause some damage. I'm not kidding myself, if they brought him in front of me and told me that he was the reason I'm going to limp for the rest of my life, I'd… well, he wouldn't have to worry about a limp.

Of course, this dream guy - no, uh, the guy in my dream that I just killed - I _stabbed _him. It's… still killing, sure, but being close up like that, it felt _different._ Makes me glad guns came along. God, I feel a little sick. Scratch that plan. If someone brought the guy to me, I'd… well I don't know what I'd do, anymore. It's not like I'm guilt-free, over there. We all took things from each other. Like that… king, or whatever, I argued with. He took something from me. Heh, I wish _I _could have just decided not to fight because I hated my CO. Not much stock in "honor" these days.

And suddenly I realize I really am saying "I" without any hesitation. Forgetting that I'm just making up some crazy gladiator movie in my dreams. I felt connected to it, though. Even the... you know, the strange parts. Hell, I woke up in a sweat from that arrow at the end. Again, pretty familiar. Like a return to the nightmares, squeezed in right before I woke up. I preferred the, er… intimacy.

_Tick. Tick._

It's funny how much this has been consuming my thoughts. Not like there's anything else to think about that I'd want to, but just like the me who was pulling off the cool _300_ moves, I'm just… not as angry, anymore. The nightmares were keeping me on edge. This Patrick guy is calming me down. Sounds ridiculous. If anything, stabbing people in an action montage should get me _more_ pumped, but then I see what's-his-name's eyes, apologizing to me as he bleeds out, practically congratulating me for my victory, and the hate just drains away. We both did our duty, I was just the lucky bastard who walked away from it. Well, figuratively. I don't want to go back, though. Screw revenge, I don't need it. The "bad guys" are back on their side, and I'm back on mine. That's how it should be. I should move on.

Now I just have to figure out what's _on_ my side. A mangled leg and… well, I'll get back to that when I think of something else.

My shoulder itches. Phantom pain from a wound that never happened, that I shouldn't even _remember_. It reminds me that however that dream started, the intimacy, the worry, the awesome battle sequence, it didn't _end_ very well.

I keep randomly thinking about the situation throughout the rest of the day. It distracts from the pain of having my bandages changed. I grit my teeth and ignore the nurse cheerfully telling me that that oh-so-amazing specialist will see me tomorrow.

And yet, I actively delay sleep. I even stomach a good hour of television before I can't fight anymore. My positivity has been beaten down by recent events, but I can't help but nurture a careful hope that this stupid dream - that I've gotten _way_ too invested in, I'm sane enough to recognize that - will have a happy ending.

**Scene 7**

As I run, Paris fires more arrows into me. They hit my back, my arms, and my legs. With all the blood leaking from the wounds, I start to feel faint, but I continue to run because the only thought that goes through my head is that I must make it to my beloved Patroclus. I finally collapse into to my chariot and tell my charioteer to go. We are out of range of Paris' arrows - too late, though, and I know it. We reach the Greek camp and I climb off my chariot, waving off my driver and starting to stagger towards our tent. Patroclus is outside; he comes running towards me with a smile on his face, happy to see me. I return a tired smile of my own, watching as his smile changes to panic. He rushes faster towards me and I fall into his arms, gazing up at him one last time.

"Patroclus my love, do not cry for me; I have died knowing that you are safe."

"Achilles you promised, you would come back to me, you promised."

"I kept my promise Patroclus," I manage a grin, "just not the way either of us wanted."

"Our love is true Achilles. We will be together again."

I close my eyes and the last breath of life leaves me as I die in my true love's arms. As my spirit floats, I see Patroclus crying and clinging to me. The Greeks gather around and weep as well. They try to get Patroclus away from me, but he does not let them. Finally, Briseis comes and takes him away. The Greeks burn my body and Patroclus stays until the last ember dies. He gathers my ashes and puts them in a box. Back in our tent, he huddles under the blankets, breathing in the smell of me. The box sits next to the bed, and he stares at it until he falls asleep. My spirit watches over him until I am called to the gods, where I will wait for my true love to join me.

**Scene 8**

Goddammit.

Too invested. I woke up shaking, covered in sweat. I _died_. Now _that's_ more like the nightmares.

I take a few deep breaths to calm down, my back tingling with more imaginary wounds. This is ridiculous. I've got enough problems with the injury I _actually have_, I don't need fake arrows sticking in me. I don't need _more_ ways I could have died running through my head.

But it wasn't so scary, really. Patroclus was there - and hey, I remember his name, now. Someone I felt I _loved_. There's a weight on my heart when I remember - and there's a little extra stab of pain, there we go - that dream-me was _far_ better off. I've never felt love like that. It was nice. That's always been the thing about my nightmares - I'm alone when I die. If not alone, then the only one around is the one who killed me. Sometimes, my friends were there, but they always died first. Not that I remember those as clearly - that's just the sense I get. Loneliness and fear.

Not this time.

_Tick. Tick._

A nurse comes in, and I suffer through some small talk to help compose myself. They've noticed I've been… confused, the last couple days. She asks if I'd like to see the counselor, again, and I finally mutter a "yes". I'm not so angry anymore, I don't feel the point of holding onto it any longer, but… I still don't know what else to do. Maybe I can talk about… certain parts, of my dream. I'll leave out the-

Really?

\- the best parts, I finish. Was it uncomfortable and awkward? Yeah, sure. But I seemed to be happy, and that's the feeling I want to focus on. It's not as familiar as the hate, but it feels a hell of a lot better. Duh. I'm really only stating obvious shit here; nothing profound, but to me it's pretty fresh.

Tentatively, I allow myself to hope a bit. I'll walk again someday. Maybe even without a cane. That specialist, I'm supposed to see him today. Looking forward to that.

I'm not sure how long this new outlook will last - now that that particular series of dreams seems to have run its course, I could end up back in the nightmares. I could forget all about the spears and chariots and Patroclus and that remorseful man with my sword in his stomach. Right now, I know I don't _want_ to, but clear or not, dreams always fade. I could end up sulking again, glaring at my leg like the useless lump of scar tissue I thought it was. I hope not. Hope is nice.

_Tick. Tick. Tick._

Every tick is another second closer to getting out of this room, right? It'd help if I had a goal to count to, of course. There's a knock. That must be the leg doc. My voice is scratchy, but I tell him he can come in, dredging up as much of that cheeriness I found so grating that I can. There he is, the guy who's supposed to help me walk again.

Oh.

_Oh._

Blood rushes to my cheeks in sheer embarrassment, because that's… that's _Patroclus_. Maybe not a perfect copy, but the resemblance is… uncanny. And no, it's _not_ a blush, shut up.

There's an awkward moment - I think he's a little confused - so I finally look up at him, meet him eye-to-eye as he introduces himself.

"Mr. Peluso? I'm Dr. Menotti."

And then he smiles, and Goddammit, this _is_ a blush, isn't it? And somehow, I smile back.

"I'm Alex."

_Tick._

-**End**


End file.
